Best 26 of Toast quotes - MyQuotes
He would never need a knife to spread a pat of butter on his toast. That smile would quickly melt it.
I got the idea of Loving from a manservant in the Fire Service during the war. He was serving with me in the ranks, and he told me he had once asked the elderly butler who was over him what the old boy most liked in the world. The reply was: 'Lying in bed on a summer morning, with the window open, listening to the church bells, eating buttered toast with cunty fingers.' I saw the book in a flash.
Fiona fixed a slice of bread to the toasting fork and held it out to the flames. So began the ritual. Hot butter melted off the slices of toast and dribbled onto their fingers.
Sturdy swimmers afloat on water-couch Beneath the heavy bill their treasured pouch Fishes pray for them to fly far away Inland lakes toast to the Pelican’s day
I don't drink coffee I take tea my dear I like my toast done on one side ..." (Englishman in New York)
There was a bag of coffee beans beneath a harpoon gun and a frozen hunk of spinach, but there was no way to grind the beans into tiny pieces to make coffee. Near a picnic basket and a large bag of mushrooms was a jug of orange juice, but it had been close to one of the bullet holes in the trunk, and so had frozen completely solid in the cold. And after Sunny moved aside three chunks of cold cheese, a large can of water chestnuts, and an eggplant as big as herself, she finally found a small jar of boysenberry jam, and a loaf of bread she could use to make toast, although it was so cold it felt more like a log than a breakfast ingredient.
When one of us (children) caught measles or whooping cough and we were isolated in bad upstairs, we wrote notes to each other perhaps on the hour. Our devoted mother would pass them for us, after first running them in a hot oven to kill the germs. They came into our hands curled up and warm, sometimes scorched like toast.
The second round of toast popped up behind David. He said, "I don't know what destiny feels like, but if this is it, I don't like it. I want to un-destiny this place from my life.
We bring champagne to Franklin and Jeffrey, and I offer a final toast, 'Wishing you all good things in your life together.' Short, simple, to the point. I look at Meredith, relaxed in her ivory gown, my sister is all grown up. I'm grateful we did our growing up together.
May you drink so much that you lose your fear, but not so much that you lose your mind. May you eat so much that you gain your strength, but not so much that you lose your shape.
When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.
He lifted a glass. Ragnor and Catarina did not join him, but Magnus was happy to make the toast on his own. "To adventure," he said, and drank.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine, Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast; Custards for supper, and an endless host Of syllabubs and jellies and mincepies, And other such ladylike luxuries.
Hart having arrived before them, insisted they lift at least one glass to old Mrs. McCray. "May she, her husband, and our father be bullying one another in the great beyond." "I hope they enjoy it", Mac said lifting his glass. His cut crystal goblet held tea, not whiskey. Mac now drank no alcohol of any kind. "Confusion to them all," Cam said, joining the toast.
A glass poured to air for the one who sits with us unseen; the patron and protector, the Crooked Warden, the Father of Necessary Pretexts. Thanks for deep pockets poorly guarded. Thanks for watchmen asleep at their posts. Thanks for the city to nurture us and the night to hide us. Thanks for friends to help us spend the loot.
Hear, hear.' Sister Martha hoisted her water glass. 'Let the rigid stick of self-righteousness be dislodged from her very uptight ass.' Father Ramon coughed. 'A-fucking-men,' Loup supplied helpfully.
E. L. Konigsburg
Had she been born 500 years sooner, Raphael would have chosen her as a model for his cherubs. Tendrils of bright red hair framed her face, a spray of freckles powdered her nose, and she was as plump as a perfectly ripened peach. Raphael probably would have painted out the freckles, and that would have been a mistake. Like brushing cinnamon off cinnamon toast.
Figs are delicious with soft cheese and ham, Toast is quite scrumptious with butter and jam, Eggs are improved by parsley and salt, But milkshakes are best with strawberries and malt.
I propose a toast to mirth; be merry! Let us complete our course of law by folly and eating! Indigestion and the digest. let Justinian be the male, and Feasting, the female! Joy the depths! Live, O creation! The world is a great diamond. I am happy. The birds are astonishing. What a festival everywhere! The nightingale is a gratuitous Elleviou. Summer, I salute thee!
What goes up must come down. But what is up? And what is down? Are you up there looking down on me? Or is it I who has the trick with gravity? Reach for me and I'll reach for you. For in the middle is where grounds stand true. 'Tis not a lie nor a deceived eye, but an understanding between you and I. So I ask again to a friend with a cup, have a drink with me if you know what's up!
Once you're certain about something, you no longer question it. And if you don't question what you think you know, then you'll only ever see the big things and TOAST is worthless to you." "Let me get this straight," she replied. "You're saying that big things, like everybody believing something, block the important details from view.
They took Daisy to the orangery, where warm autumn light glittered through the windows, and the scents of citrus and bay hung thick in the air. Removing Daisy's heavy orange-blossom wreath and veil, Lillian set them aside on a chair. There was a silver tray on a nearby table, laden with a bottle of chilled champagne and four tall crystal glasses. "This is a special toast for you, dear," Lillian said, while Annabelle poured the sparkling liquid and handed the glasses out. "To your happy ending. Since you've had to wait for it longer than the rest of us, I'd say you deserve the entire bottle." She grinned. "But we're going to share it with you anyway." Daisy curved her fingers around the crystal stem. "It should be a toast for all of us," she said. "After all, three years ago we had the worst marriage prospects imaginable. We couldn't even get an invitation to dance. And look how well things turned out." "All it t-took was some devious behavior and a few scandals here and there," Evie said with a smile. "And friendship," Annabelle added. "To friendship," Lillian said, her voice suddenly husky. And their four glasses clicked in one perfect moment.
Now," said Benjy mouse, "to business." Ford and Zaphod clinked their glasses together. "To business!" they said. "I beg your pardon?" said Benjy. Ford looked round. "Sorry, I thought you were proposing a toast," he said.
The next morning we experienced our very first “full English breakfast,” which consisted of tea, orange juice, cookies, oatmeal, granola, berries, bananas, croissants, grapes, pineapples, prunes, yogurt, five kinds of cold cereal, eggs, hash browns, back bacon, sausage, smoked salmon, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, toast, butter, jam, jelly, and honey. I don’t know how the British do it.
Khang Kijarro Nguyen
Stress is a dragon. Believe in it and you’re toast. Slay your stress.
They don't go in for the fancy or exotic, but stick to conventional food like flightless bird embryos, minced organs in intestine skins, slices of hog flesh and burnt ground grass seeds dipped in animal fats; or, as it is known in their patois, egg, sausage, bacon and a fried slice of toast.